From Hogwarts with Love
by Candy Cane Jones
Summary: A LilyJames fic set directly upon their graduation from Hogwarts. Totally canon, realistic, etc. Not just another HATE vs LOVE story.
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to the story! Author's Notes are on the bottom.**

James and Lily hadn't seen each other in almost a month. Oh sure, they had written, but it wasn't the same. Not at all. Schedules being what they were, however, nothing could be done. Nothing, that is, until today.

James frowned and rested his elbow on the small dinette table in his kitchen. His parents' proud black owl regarded him blithely. Immediately, for no good reason, the old cuckoo clock he and Sirius hadn't been able to wrest away from the wall began to chime six o'clock. It was actually one or so in the morning, but that the wooden, manticore-shaped clock couldn't tell time was the least of his problems.

A flying robe hit him in the head. He sniffed it to make sure it was clean enough. Sirius was busily spraying his cologne everywhere.

"Hurry up, Prongs. The nightlife's just starting."

"Then it will still be there in a few bloody minutes," James said tersely. "I've got to owl Lily."

"_Je_sus, it's our first free night in ages! Couldn't that wait until we get home later?"

"We'll be too drunk later, if you have anything to say about it."

"Well, there's that."

James rolled his eyes at his best friend and ripped a blank sheet of parchment out of his book. He snatched up an inkwell and punched Sirius when he sprayed him in the head with cologne. Hopefully, the owl would reach Lily before too late.

_"James Potter, Ma'am."_

_His smile had been sincere and his eyes had been bright when he had shaken hands first with Lily's mother, then with Lily's father. At the station, a nearby conductor had blown his whistle smartly at close proximity, causing everyone to wince and share an easy laugh. They chatted and James even helped heft Lily's luggage into the back of the family car. Only Lily saw his momentary look of marvel at the Muggle springs and the lock on the trunk. _

_Her mother was smiling broadly the entire time and her dad hadn't even pulled out the interrogating boyfriend stare. James had already seemed quite comfortable with her parents, even if afterwards he had dropped the subtle hint to Lily that he had nearly pissed himself. _

_"Good handshake, that boy," had commented Mr. Evans only last night at the dinner table. "When are we meeting up with him again, Lily?"_

_"Yes, Lily," chimed her mum, spooning out another portion of stew, "When will we see James again?"_

_"When?"_

_When?_

The clock ticked two.

Lily Evans flopped over in bed, disrupting the linens further. She peeked up from a nest of orange hair and covered her face again. Time passed. It hadn't worked. Maybe if she just closed her eyes again….? No, there was no helping it.

Lily rolled off her bed and into in a sitting position. She checked her old, beaten wind-up clock. It read almost a quarter past two in the morning. The sky was still dark.

She tip-toed to the window and threw it all the way open. A fine mist of sweat covered her body, even under her thin pyjamas. The end of June was quite hot this year. She had been out of Hogwarts for a scanty few weeks.

The Evans' house was midway down the hill of the long street. Going up the hill led deeper into country, with more houses and parks and eventually open farmland. Going down the hill brought the town and commercial area. A cool breeze always floated down from the left, from the top of the hill, and Lily sat on her desk and stuck her head out the window for a full minute to catch the fresh night air on her face.

Like in the past few nights, Lily was able to lapse only into the uneasiest of sleeps. She would kiss her parents goodnight at a moderate point in the evening—or later than moderate, if she had spent the day with her witch friends—and then she'd read her spellbooks and scribble on parchment scraps until her eyes closed.

Often, she would begin to sleep unknowingly, only as her daydreams slid into real dreams. Lily thought of Hogwarts often, and how her life as a full-fledged witch should have been beginning and was instead put practically on hold as she hunted for her place in wizarding society and fell into her sister's wedding schemes. There was not one of Lily's friends who had missed war stories of dress fittings, hour-long marches across the church, and general tedium at Petunia's vindictive, well-manicured hands. James had said that it couldn't have been worse than being caught behind a Fire Crab on a tour of a creature reserve, but Lily wasn't sure she believed that entire story anyway.

_Oh, James_. Lily sighed and stuck her head back inside the window. That was another dilemma altogether. She hadn't seen her boyfriend since King's Cross after their last ride on the Hogwarts Express. James and Sirius were busily moving into their shared flat, and from James' letters his parents were not taking it so well. Lily had her share of the moving process, too; one of her best mates, Emmeline Vance, had rented rooms in a wizarding quarter of London and moving one of the most pampered witches in England was not easy. Between Emmeline, Lily, Dorcas Meadows, and Marlene McKinnon (the Gryffindor girls crowd from Hogwarts), the four had only just managed to set up the furnishings before Emmeline decided the wall hangings had to go.

Lily was more than a little envious of her friends. Dorcas had lived on her own since the first day of her return from Hogwarts. Now James and Sirius were sharing a flat and Remus would probably be joining them shortly. It looked as if he wouldn't be getting a lease from his current prospect. That made little Peter Pettigrew as left out as Lily; his fretting mother hadn't had the Galleons or the nerve to let her only son out into rented rooms.

Lily's parents had adamantly balked at her desire to go off alone. _Why do that?_ they had said. _Too much money wasted. You don't need your own place anyway. Petunia's not here anymore and you know we won't bother you. Save up for a house. Get a good position first. Your sister's wedding isn't far away, and she lived here for two years until she was married. There's no reason for an unmarried girl to pick up at seventeen. You'll be eighteen soon. At least wait until then to consider anything. _

Her parents' arguments were reasonable, well-rehearsed, sensible, and suggested in love. Lily knew they were right. It was unusual for so many young witches and wizards to leave home so at so young anyway, but many wanted to get an early start owing to Lord Voldemort's fatal attacks. Lily shivered. She knew that when Caradoc Dearborn had proposed to Emmeline Vance at the end of school, both had taken the possibility of a shorter life-span into account. It was a sickening aspect to any life calculation.

Caradoc, Emmeline, and almost all of Lily's graduated school friends were involved in Dumbledore's organization, the Order of the Phoenix. Lily had only perused basic reading material on the Order (given to her personally by Dumbledore and then quickly reclaimed) but was yet to partake in any of its work. Dumbledore had promised to contact the former students by the beginning of July; and Lily checked daily for any communication.

Thinking of communication, Lily was startled to realize that she had been drooping asleep against the open window pane. She made to get up and close the window when she heard a scurrying of wings in the distance. The magical world had made her take note of such noises, so that Lily stepped away from the window just as a powerful, fierce black owl swooping into her room. It circled twice and hooted sharply, landing on her desk chair and pecking at the bowl of chocolates she kept on her desk. The sight would have given any other seventeen-year-old on the block a good turn, but then again, none of them had ever ridden a broomstick over a forest.

Lily wrinkled her nose at the waste of sweets and hoped her parents hadn't woken with the noise. The animal was devouring the candies, wrappers and all. Lily broke into a bright smile when she saw the scroll tied to the owl's leg. She had been too drowsy to recognize the Potter owl.

Hurriedly, Lily unrolled the letter and switched on her electric lamp. It flickered for a moment and shut off. Of course: Lily's wand was lying next to it and the magic of the cleaning spells she had used earlier still lingered in the room.

"_Lumos_," she recited, making a note to keep her wand on her nightstand next time. Lily held the bright wand tip up to the scrawlish handwriting on the parchment.

_Dear Lily,_

_Hello, it's James. Obviously. The rents' bird was having a doss on our table after delivering more pies from Mum_—Lily shot a shrewd glance at the keen owl eating all her toffee. That owl didn't take naps anywhere, especially after what was apparently a summer training regimen set up by Mr. Potter. More likely James had wheedled with the bird to make the trek from Diagon Alley to the Evans household because he and Sirius didn't have own an owl themselves. Not that James could just out and say that.—_so we put him to work. How are things?_

A new color of ink started the next paragraph.

_Sirius says hello. He just broke my inkwell, the son of a Bludger. He's impatient for me to finish up so we can go out to the pub, but I told him he'd have to wait. Now he's pretending that he actually wants to wait so you won't get shirty with him when you see us tomorrow (or rather, later today owing to the hour). I say you should do it anyway._

Tomorrow! Lily flashed her wand to her calendar. That was the first day of the last week in June. James had promised he would stop by before July. Lily hugged herself cozily and continued to read.

_Don't worry about fixing anything extra for him. He'll be pretty hairy by tomorrow, so a bone or two would do it. We'll be there a little after lunch but I don't know how long we can stay._

_I miss you._

The sudden change of topic jarred Lily. Her heart pained her for a minute, but she firmly resisted the inclination to spiral off into a daydream. She cared about James maybe more than he knew; and even though they had only been dating since the beginning of seventh year, Lily knew that she loved him. It was unsaid, but not unfelt. She knew about the Animagi forms of the Marauders, after all, following a harrowing strain on her relationship with James during seventh year. But Lily would forgive him almost anything. Greedily, she followed the rest of the sharp-edged print down to the bottom of the page.

_I wish we were less busy here, but Mum owls me at least twice a day now with pointers and treats for us. The plumbing's not too great all the time either and some of the furniture bites. Luckily for us, the flat is already magically hooked up and we don't need to bother changing out of your electrisital nonsense._

_Now I've gone and left out the point of the paragraph, so I'll start a new one. I miss you, Lily. I miss seeing you and being with you. Sirius stopped peering over my shoulder just now. I hope he stays away. After this moving business is taken care of, you and I can start spending more time together again. Don't worry your head, Lily. I'll be ready and settled for your sister's wedding, if only you're prepared to find me one of those ridiculous Muggle suits._

_Any more compliments on me from your Mum?_

_With love,_

_James_

_With love_. Lily gazed at the sheet of parchment for a long time, memorizing the itchy, bold letters of someone who communicates with charisma and trying to envision the hands that made those letters. She bit her lip. It was unreal, the impact a plain old correspondence had. She should probably try to be stopping herself, telling herself it was a girlish fancy or an overreaction. How trite. But Lily didn't want to stop living like she was that day, with the exception of James' absence. That could change. And the weather could dry up.

Lily dimmed out her wand and placed the letter by her bedside. Then, she took the dish of sweets from the owl and gently encouraged it into the air. With a crafty _hoot_, the bird set off on its night flight and Lily spared a minute to watch it go. She moved to go close the window but thought better of it, and Lily fluffed her hair once in front of the mirror she couldn't see. Sleep would come easily now, even though it would be a long night.

**Hello, hello, and here we are at another LJ story. This is the companion to Lightning at Hogwarts, but as you can see you can easily read one without the other. Since I am a better writer now than I was then, this story is hopefully a bit better as well. Suggestions are always welcome and I reply to reviews.**

**This is a prologue-ish chapter, with exposition and stuff before the real action. Leave me some ideas on how you like it. I have no idea when the next chapter is coming out; it depends on the feedback. Thanks…**

"Winds from the east... Mist comin' in... Like somethin' was brewin', about to begin... Can't put me finger on what lies in store... But I feel what's to 'appen, all 'appened before...!" Bert, Mary Poppins (the movie).


	2. Chapter 2

An ungodly hour greeted Lily as she groaned the next morning and checked her alarm clock. She closed her window to the chirping birds, but thought better of sleeping immediately. After setting a note on the kitchen table informing her mother of James' intended visit, Lily crawled back into bed and didn't stir for awhile.

She woke up late, dammit. Without renewing the alarming alarm spell on her clock, Lily found herself falling out of bed not long before twelve. She could hear her father's voice downstairs; he was home early for lunch. Or was he late? On second inspection, the clock showed half _past_ twelve, not half before. The shower would have to wait until tonight

Throwing on clothes and blasting splahing her face with water from her wand, Lily took the stairs at lightspeed and pecked her surprised father on the cheek as she raced to the front door. James had been highly unspecific as to his arrival, meaning that she either ought to wait for him in front of the house or check all of the cupboards to make sure he hadn't Apparated incorrectly.

Lily sat down on the front steps and waited. It shouldn't be long now.

It wasn't long, even though James was ambushed by stringy honeysuckle vines as he Apparated into the woodsy park up the street from Lily's house. Sirius appeared next to him only a moment later, brushing bramble from his hair.

"Where the hell are we?"

"Relax, Padfoot, I told you. We're in Chesire."

"But where in Chesire?"

"Near Lily's house. I told you to trust me. My father said this was probably the best Apparating Point close to her home. We'll just need to go down the road."

They started out from behind a small grove of pine trees after checking for Muggles; and they began bickering almost immediately.

"I'm not wearing any bloody dog lead."

"C'mon, Padfoot, be reasonable. You'll be a dog, and dogs need dog leads."

"I'll be well-behaved if I don't chew your fingers off first," replied Sirius archly. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed (which he had) and still pulled off an attitude of suave condescension. James knew Sirius well enough to realize his surliness was more of a mechanical reaction than anything else, and Sirius was paying him back for dragging him along. It set James to rethinking his plan to use Sirius as a safety net in front of the Evanses.

James gritted his teeth. He had met her parents before and everything went well. _That meeting had lasted five minutes_. Why wouldn't things go well now? _This is for at least an hour_. He could do it. _If you don't botch it completely._ _Don't be a jerk. Don't do things Lily hated you doing. Watch before you do magic. Remember to give them the chocolates._

"Listen," said James, trying to keep his nerves down. "I brought you so you could see what her parents are like and stop me from making an idiot of myself. You're here to _help_, you miserable bastard. Now transform and let me put on the dog lead."

"No, Prongs, you listen," said Sirius with a modicum of mild seriousness. "There's no reason for you to be so damn nervous. You're never _really_ nervous unless you're deep in it with Lily or one of us. So drop the dog lead and stop becoming your mother."

Unsurprisingly, that shut James up. He knew Sirius was right, though that didn't stop him from hating him momentarily for it. A dog and a man emerged from the forest a minute later, and the dog wasn't wearing a lead.

James peered at the houses, honing in on the numbers and finding what her house quickly. It was farther down the lane and he and Sirius started down, Sirius ambling grouchily along the grass. _He'll perk up in a bit_, though James. Sirius was always happier and more affectionate as a dog than as a human.

The Evans home was a modest-size house painted a deep, fresh green with clean white shutters. A blaze of colors stocked the front yard and the plants grew in tumultuous profusion under the open windows. Lining the brick path were sweet-smelling petunias, and James smiled when he saw a clump of fat, orangish daylilies, her namesake. He smiled even wider when a brighter clump of orange rose from the front steps and walked out to the street.

Lily's blood still quickened whenever she saw James coming. She smiled at him as he got closer and closer. James looked pretty wonderful to her, tall, lean, grinning, with his glasses and mop of messy hair per usual. He wore a grey T-shirt over his Muggle denims: everything complied with Muggle security to the letter, except that the words 'Falmouth Falcons' and a white falcon's head ramped across the front of the shirt. It was natural that James' Muggle clothing consisted of a Quidditch tee. Sirius trotted alongside him, nosing through the flowerbeds. That hound was bigger than Lily remembered.

James held out his arms and Lily resisted the urge to run down her yard and dive into them. Instead, she hurried over and gave him a fierce hug, sighing contentedly and then angling her head back to get a good look at him.

"You look excellent in Muggle clothes."

James smirked cockily.

"So do you."

"Don't ogle, James. My parents aren't too far away."

That gave James pause. He had obviously been about to kiss her. Lily wished he would've.

"Are they as glad to see me as you are?"

"I'm glad you're here," she murmured, and then he did kiss her. Quite nicely. His lips were firm but gentle, and when they pulled apart both were tingling.

"Hello, James," grinned Lily. "How was your trip?"

"'Lo, Lily," grinned James, raking a hand through his hair. "Our trip was fine. Me and Sirius made great time, of course."

"That's because you Apparated," replied Lily, reaching over to scratch Sirius behind the ears. He turned his extremely expressive face on Lily and seemed to roll his eyes ever so slightly in James' direction. Then he collapsed his full weight unceremoniously onto her feet and panted. James restrained himself from kicking him; and Lily giggled. James reached for her waist and pulled her close again but stopped, and waved.

"Hello, Mrs. Evans," he smiled unashamedly. Sirius leapt to his paws and did a quick about-face. Lily jumped; and she had turned a light pink. Her mother was on the front steps, holding a serving fork with her hands on her hips.

Mrs. Evans was a smiling, forty-something woman with a kind face. She had a heavy figure and thick hips, and she had given much of her looks to her younger daughter. Her hair was red, but grey dabbed her temples, yet her almond-shaped eyes were brown. Mrs. Evans had the decency to cough and give a pointed glance to her daughter.

"Lunch is ready, dears. Hello, James."

She made her way down the steps and hugged James, kissing him on both cheeks. Mrs. Evans was almost as in love with James as Lily was, although Lily knew that her mother's estimation of James' natural charm was helped along immensely by Vernon Dursley's decided lack of charm. Lily found it hard not to be smug while watching Vernon fumble around her family. She had known her parents would love James; she just hadn't counted on them taking to him so quickly. Especially as far as her father was concerned.

"And who is this handsome fellow?" asked Mrs. Evans, holding out her hand to Sirius. He sniffed it cautiously, and (with a questioning look at James) licked Mrs. Evans' fingers. She scratched his ears exactly as Lily had.

"That's my, er…friend's dog, Mrs. Evans," said James quickly. "We've been looking after him for a while. He's house-trained and everything. If he's too much trouble, I could always—"

Sirius' eyes narrowed suspiciously, as if to say, _You could always what, exactly, Prongs?_ Mrs. Evans hadn't noticed. She was combing through his thick fur.

"Oh, _no_, James, we love dogs. Not cats so much—too sneaky for my taste—but well-behaved dogs like this, certainly," she added, giving a slight cough.

"Mum, is your cough getting worse?" asked Lily shrewdly, eyeing her mother with a look that had forced James to spill a secret many a time. Mrs. Evans tutted.

"Nonsense. Now, James, what do you call this marvelous animal?"

"Snuffles," he supplied easily, choosing the name that Lily was pretty sure Sirius liked the least. Surprisingly, however, Sirius was enjoying his scratch too much to cast a condescending look. Lily remembered James saying how much pleasanter Sirius was as a dog.

"Snuffles, then? Lacks a certain dignity, doesn't it now? Well, Snuffles can join us inside. We're just having lunch."

"Really? We didn't think we'd be coming during lunch," said James apologetically. "I owled Lily that we'd be here—"

"Well, lunch is late then," interrupted Mrs. Evans with a brandish of the serving fork. "And it's Lily's breakfast, so no one is wriggling out of it, which includes Snuffles. Come inside."

They sat down to a refreshing meal of cold chicken, a salad and biscuits. James looked around the kitchen as they entered through a bright front hallway. The dining table was set a bit further out from the cooking area, and James peered over the table to the kitchen beyond, where the Muggle appliances were no doubt located. Lily laughed softly and pushed him towards an empty chair. The furniture was a bright blonde wood that lightened the airy room. A vase of sunflowers sat in the middle of the checked tablecloth and the windows were all open, allowing the pitiful breeze from outside to roam indoors. James liked their kitchen. It felt lived-in and cooked-in.

Mr. Evans was perusing the paper at the table, glancing over his reading eyeglasses as James entered.

"Lily, where's that old spanner from—ah, James. Hadn't heard you come in. How are you?"

Mr. Evans rose. They shook hands, and then James sat at the spot Mrs. Evans indicated next to Lily. Sirius lay under the table, concerning himself only with a hambone Mrs. Evans had produced from the cupboard.

Mr. Evans returned to his paper. Mrs. Evans swatted it away and placed the dish of biscuits on the table. Her husband threw his reading glasses aside and sighed in exasperation, folding up the paper and putting it into his briefcase beside the table.

Lily's father commanded a certain amount of respect, even if James was pretty certain that the man liked him. Mr. Evans had a long, chiseled face with decidedly sharp green eyes; and if his hairline was receding and greying, his yellow hair only grew in thicker in the back. He cut a tall, wiry figure. James remembered that Mr. Evans walked with a slight limp on his left leg, but he hadn't the foggiest idea why. Right now, Lily's father was arguing over some sort of medication.

"…absurd amounts of money for this rubbish," he was saying. "Pounds and pounds for that doctor, and this dog under the table could do me a better service for what I pay—wait a moment. Donna, where did this dog come from again?"

"James' friend's dog, Snuffles," repeated Mrs. Evans patiently. 'Snuffles' wuffled hello and snorted into Mr. Evans' hand, earning a grin from Lily and a warning glare from James. Mr. Evans raised his eyebrows but patted Sirius' head nonetheless.

"And you must take your medication, dear," continued Mrs. Evans firmly. "The doctor is _not_ a liar or a thief and he knows what's best."

"Knows what's best for what, precisely? His own pocket or my health?"

"Take the pill, dear."

"Throw it away," he waved boisterously. Mrs. Evans sighed and returned the capsule to its amber bottle.

"I'll just be getting more milk from the kitchen," said Mrs. Evans somewhat sadly, moving into the farther recesses of the kitchen. Everyone tucked in. Soon, Mr. Evans began piling seconds onto his plate.

"So, James, you like sports?"

"Er…"

James looked to Lily; she shrugged and added some butter to her bread. He looked back to Mr. Evans.

"Well, I don't know many Mugg—er, regular sports. I'm used to _our_ kind…sort of…"

"Of course! I had forgotten," said Mr. Evans over a mouth of chicken. "It goes clean out of my head sometimes that you and my Lily aren't exactly—"

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Evans. Is Lily home?"

Mrs. Evans' scream from the kitchen brought all three diners to their feet and Sirius onto his hackles. Lily darted from the table, James and her father on her heels. Mrs. Evans was standing in a puddle of milk, the shattered pitcher in shards at her feet. Emmeline Vance had Apparated into the middle of the kitchen.

Emmeline had—embarrassedly—mopped up the milk and repaired the pitcher with her wand. She handed it to Mrs. Evans, who took it with stunned fingers. Emmeline grinned apologetically and waved a tentative hello to Lily and James.

One of Lily's best friends, Emmeline was a tall, slim witch with olive skin and bold, red lipstick. She was sophisticated and glamorous; and she wore what were clearly peach witches' robes of a high quality. A little owl-shaped clip with real flapping wings held her dark hair in a complicated knot atop her head. She looked mighty out of place in the Evanses' homespun Muggle abode.

Once James saw that there was nothing to worry about, he greedily perused the appliances such as the toaster, or the refrigerator, or the dishwasher. Mrs. Evans nodded cheerfully to Emmeline and handed the milk to her husband, before sitting at the table and taking a deep sip of juice. Mr. Evans frowned. He nevertheless offered a smile to Emmeline before tending to his wife. Lily heard words such as "…never will be quite used to folks just _appearing_ like that from nowhere…"

"'Lo Lily," greeted Emmeline contentedly. Coming from a family of four generations of witches at least, Emmeline saw nothing amiss in her sudden arrival.

"How are you, Emmeline?"

"Not too bad. I see you and James are having a quiet lunch with the family."

James grinned.

"That's us. Quiet as castle mice here. No snogging at least until lunch is over."

The witch sniggered slightly as Lily arched her eyebrows.

"Parents, James. They're barely three meters away."

"A load can be accomplished in three meters."

Sirius quietly prowled the dining room table. Emmeline spared him only a moment's glance before turning back to Lily. She didn't know about the Marauders' Animagi secret or she might have remarked on the large dog now nosing into Mrs. Evans' palm, scrounging for handouts.

"Listen, Lily. The reason I'm here is that those curtains I ordered have just arrived and it's a load of work trying to get them to straighten out—"

"_Merlin_, Emmy!"

"—and something more important."

Emmeline lowered her voice and gestured to Lily and James to move closer. James was curious.

"It's from Dumbledore," whispered Emmeline. Lily's eyes widened.

"When?" asked James swiftly, all business in under a minute flat.

"Not sure," Emmeline replied. "I checked with Caradoc and he got something too, but I get the feeling we're not really supposed to talk about these things with one another. At least not yet. You should find something on your pillows if you get anything."

"Pillows?" asked James. "Like, bedsheets and pillows?"

"Exactly. But it's not quite what you'd think. I'd expect that it's magically done so that only the intended receiver can read it."

"And what did you get, Emmeline?" asked Lily. "You don't need to tell us specifics," she added quickly. "Just what's the general message?"

"Meeting time," said Emmeline. "The Order." Suddenly, the day seemed graver than it had a moment ago. Lily bit her lip. James glanced at Sirius. The dog hadn't heard anything from under the table. James would tell him in a minute.

"Right," said Lily briskly. "Thanks for telling us. I'll look upstairs now, and you can just wait—"

The front door opened noisily, accompanied by the clicking of high-heeled shoes.

"Mother!" called a voice loudly. "Father! Vernon and I have come to show you some plans for the aisle decora—"

Petunia Evans stopped and gaped at the dining area. There sat her parents with her mother feeding an enormous beast from her plate. Lily was near the oven (in awfully tasteless shorts), talking to Lord-knows-who. One of the people was normal enough—besides that ridiculous messy hair—but the other… Petunia sucked in her breath. The other was so…so blatantly…

"_What_ on earth is this? Some kind of convention?" she sniped nastily. Beside him, James felt Lily's fists clench. "Haven't I told you, Lily, about bringing your _abnormalities _into our lives—"

"Hello, Vernon," said Mrs. Evans weakly, preparing for the inevitable. The blond-topped mass behind Petunia nodded blandly.

"I don't recall, _Petunia_," spat Lily. "Why don't you and Vernon go and avail yourselves of the living room? Then you won't need to watch my _friends_ and me have _conversations_ that don't concern you or your damn _wedding_ plans—"

"Mother!" cried Petunia shrilly, throwing down her purse. "I can't believe you—"

"Lily's friends are as welcome in this home as yours!" defended Mrs. Evans hotly. "_I_ cannot believe I raised a daughter to be so rude to guests—"

"You know they're not normal!" accused Petunia. "You know they're not like us! You know they're dangerous and—"

"James and Emmeline are certainly _not_ dangerous, Petunia! You haven't even met them! Why would you—"

"Oh yes they are!" snarled Lily. "Don't let Mum fool you! They eat girls who don't match up their purses with their shoes! But you're safe, Petunia. You always cared more about what you wore than what came out of your fat mouth—"

"Girls, I'm tired of this!" cried Mrs. Evans. "Either you behave yourselves or we'll need to—"

"Behave?" shrieked Petunia. "Don't make me laugh! You've let ickle Lily do whatever she wants since she was ten—"

James regarded Lily's sister with interest. Petunia Evans was taller and lankier than her sister, bordering on being too skinny. She had inherited her father's long face, but her mother's pointed nose, which showed all the more for being placed on a crane-like neck. Her blonde hair was rigidly curled and pinned to her head, even if strands were becoming shaken down in her rage. James had the feeling that the sight of Emmeline Vance had set her off. Petunia's tidy outfit—a modest A-hem skit with a twin set cardigan and jumper—showed the care and concern that went into the choosing. Her stubby heels tapped the floor in obvious agitation.

Behind her stood what could have been a man or could have been a walrus and was probably the latter. Vernon—fitting every description Lily had ever given him at Hogwarts—was currently taking up about three-quarters of the entry hall himself, with the look of someone who is uncomfortable with the situation and is trying to disappear. James thought Vernon probably had a better chance of being the Minister of Magic than of disappearing any time soon. He had no neck and a thin brown mustache. His plaid trousers did little for his physique. James couldn't help but disdain the man, although he wasn't yet quite sure why. A wheezy noise from under the table indicated Sirius' canine laughter. James cracked a grin as well. Undoubtedly, Vernon would be a subject of interest later.

In a distinctly misfortunate turn of events, it seemed as if James' grin had come at the wrong time in the raging battlefield. Petunia had taken it to mean that somehow, all wizarding kind was not to be trusted. James didn't quite know what to do as Lily launched another attack and Mrs. Evans tried repeatedly to defuse the row. Not knowing what else to do, he cast an eye at Mr. Evans. What he saw surprised him.

Mr. Evans merely leaned backwards in his chair, his back mostly to James, wearing a disgusted of look. His was a picture of a man wholly unworried, but still grimly disappointed. Far from being anti-magical (as James had feared), Mr. Evans was impatient with Petunia. And it didn't seem like the first time either.

As James watched with wonder, Mr. Evans picked up his newspaper once more and began to read. The voices of the three Evans women worked themselves down and Petunia stared at her father with throbbing hurt. Emmeline and James exchanged a worried look.

"Father," asked Petunia, every syllable shaking, "whom do you think is right?"

"You know I don't care to get involved, Petunia," he replied mildly, not even looking her in the face. He turned the page. The crackling noise heightened the whiteness of Petunia's pinched lips.

"Yes," she said with mechanical malevolence. "I knew it. How silly of me." She turned to her fiancé. "I apologize Vernon. Let's go to the living room now."

Petunia stomped towards the door and swung around abruptly.

"Oh, and pardon me for not introducing myself." James found that she was addressing him. "My name is Petunia. You must be Lily's friends. Pleasure."

Petunia stepped inside the living room and Vernon trudged in stolidly behind her. She closed the sliding doors slowly. Mrs. Evans let out a shaky breath and slumped heavily into her seat, coughing slightly.

James began stroking Lily's back. She looked fierce, her cheeks passionately colored and her eyes glinting with menace. The last time James had seen her like this, it had been one of _their_ fights at Hogwarts, and he hadn't been able to comfort her then.

Emmeline made some kind of noise with her lips. Mrs. Evans' head whipped up.

"I'm so sorry, dears," she said, her eyes shining with wetness. Mr. Evans did put his paper down now, and he took his wife's hands.

"We said we'd let it go."

"I know," she answered, her voice pitching dangerously high. "I know. It's just that it _always_ starts and there's _never_ anything we can do about it…they're so different now…"

Mrs. Evans hiccupped. It might have been a sob.

"Quick," whispered Lily, her anger evaporated into concern, "go up the front stairs. I'll be right there."

"I think I'll leave," said Emmeline uneasily, looking quite guilty.

"Emmy, it wasn't your fault," said Lily consolingly. "I shouldn't have been so blown up about my sister but I can't help it with Petunia sometimes. It wasn't you. We would have fought about something else anyway."

"Still…" she said. "I should go work on my apartment anyway. Owl me later about those curtains."

Lily gave a small smile.

"The same Emmeline Vance."

"Would I change?" snorted Emmeline. "Have a nice afternoon, kids." She hugged Lily and James quickly and Disapparated. Lily pushed James towards the stairs, past her parents. her mother waved emphatically.

"I'm fine, Lily, you really don't need—"

"Go on, Lily," interrupted Mr. Evans. "Take James upstairs—only this once, mind."

"I know, Dad," smiled Lily. Mr. Evans didn't smile, though. Mrs. Evans was dabbing her eyes with the back of her hand. Mr. Evans looked quite surly.

"You hurt your mother," he said, but not with bitterness.

"I'm dreadfully sorry, Mum," apologized Lily. James was already safely out in the hallway. "I know I should just ignore Petunia but—"

"That's enough," said Mr. Evans with a nod. "That should be all we need to hear. Thank you for your apology."

Lily made a helpless noise. Her father had a way of making her feel worse than she had ever felt when Petunia called her a freak. She looked to her mother. Mrs. Evans managed to smile.

"It's all right, Lily. No harm's done."

"Thanks, Mum," said Lily in a small voice. Mrs. Evans waved again.

"Go on, now. Show James around the upstairs. Don't worry about it. Your father needs to finish his lunch."

"Yes, Mum," said Lily humbly. Mr. Evans nodded approvingly and gave Lily a small smile to ease the tension. Lily smiled back appreciatively and hurried out to the hall, past the silent living room hidden behind the sliding doors. Mrs. Evans had her fingers curled in Sirius' hair, and he stared mournfully after Lily.

James was standing alone, admiring the Muggle telephone. Lily tapped him on the shoulder and indicated the stairs.

"You heard, I imagine?" she asked heatedly.

"Er…some," answered James vaguely. "Only that your dad needs to finish his lunch."

"Right."

They didn't speak again until Lily led James down a short way along the second floor, into the third room on the left. Then she exploded.

"I _can't believe her_!" snarled Lily, furiously kicking aside a pile of spellbooks as she threw herself onto her bed. "The absolute nerve! To treat you and Emmeline like that, and in front of Vernon too!"

"I take it the large one was Vernon?" asked James easily. He was more interested in looking around Lily's room, examining the electric lamp and the ceiling fan.

"Yes," said Lily with a wicked smile. "Isn't he terrible?"

"Terribly thick if you ask me," answered James, seating himself on her bulky throw rug.

"I know!" replied Lily viciously, evidently grateful to be able to vent. "And he's just as stupid as he looks! Nasty, too. Why, just last week, he was telling that cow—" James took this to be Petunia "—about how _his_ parents have a vacation spot in Cornwall. Well, why should he care if we do or don't have a summer house? Not that he'd be invited if we did; Mum only puts up with him because he makes Petunia happy—Merlin knows why—and Dad thinks Vernon could stand to get his stuffing knocked out of him a few times. It would take a great fat load of giants to knock all the stuffing out of Vernon—"

Lily trailed off eventually, feeling guilty. James hadn't come here to be caught in the middle of her family troubles.

"Sorry," she said awkwardly, clutching her downy pillow. "I guess I should try to stop altogether with this fighting, but they burn me up so much…"

"I'm not bothered," proclaimed James airily, gingerly prodding a Muggle magazine lying on Lily's floor. "It's better to see you bite off someone else's head, rather than go for mine."

A curious thought struck Lily. She stuck her head over the side of her bed and looked James in the eye.

"You…you _liked_ seeing me argue with Petunia," she accused. He pondered her charge with a serious expression. Then James grinned illicitly, scooting closer to Lily's face, which hung upside down off the bed.

"Got it in one," he admitted. "I don't hold with what she said—and I'm sorry about your mum being upset—but you're a damn sight to see when you're brassed off."

He scooted a little more, and Lily had never known the word 'scoot' could be so thrilling.

"I should be feeling really bad right now," she said, rolling onto her side for a better crack at him. "I should still be guilty…and miserable…and in a terrific temper…"

"Mmm," he said distractedly, running his fingers up the side of her face and into her hair. "Odd how things don't work out, isn't it?"

"Maddening."

"I'm happy I'm here, Lily," James ventured, and she smiled down lazily. He brought his face to hers and he kissed her thoroughly, warming her in the way the weather didn't. His fingers gently pushed and pulled through her soft, cool hair, turning her head just as he wanted. Lily let James do all of the work, her arms determinedly bracing herself on the mattress. The bed felt very conspicuous against her body. She was flushing unexpectedly for such a comparatively gentle kiss, and all kinds of things were flashing in and out of her head.

Lily didn't care. She allowed James to move his face to her neck, grasping as his cold glasses touched her skin beside his hot mouth. As she rolled more onto her side, however, and James kneeled upright to allow a greater reach, Lily's legs touched something strange. Something very light and fluffy. Suddenly, everything about the conversation in the kitchen—Lily's mind had gone blissfully blank before—came rushing back and she was startled into a sitting position.

James fell back, looking confused. His glasses had been pushed askew and his lips were very much red.

"Wha…?"

"The Order of the Phoenix, James!" said Lily, triumphantly holding up an object from her pillow.

It was a long, thin feather, red and gold and orange. The vane was soft and highly fibrous; and it glinted in the sunlight from the window. As Lily grasped it with both hands, the feather disappeared and was replaced by a sheet of parchment. To James, it appeared blank. To Lily, it revealed a careful map of the London underground, including a marked location and a short message.

"Oh," breathed Lily, tucking her hair behind her ear and examining the map. James thumped down beside her and gazed eagerly at the parchment. He wrinkled his brows.

"I don't see a damn thing."

"You don't? It's clear in black ink."

"There's nothing on that parchment."

"James, don't—wait a moment, this is what Emmeline meant," said Lily. "I'll bet no one but the intended reader can look at the paper."

"A fat load of good that does me," complained James, collapsing backwards to stretch out on the bed. "What does it say?"

"Well…" Lily hesitated, but only for a moment. This was James she was talking to. If she wouldn't trust him, who _would_ she trust? "It has a map of London."

"Muggle?"

"Yes. Muggle London." Lily squinted. "Seems like there's a spot marked near the Muggle entrance to Diagon Alley." As she examined the drawing closer, the map seemed to sharpen in view and street names appeared, written in a neat hand.

"Well, what's the message say?" asked James. His tone was mostly unreadable as he stared up at Lily's ceiling, surrounded by the scent of her pillows.

"Date and time. July 12, at seven in the evening," Lily finished, rolling up the parchment again. To her surprise, it resumed the shape of a phoenix feather. Carefully, Lily put it on her nightstand.

She snorted, looking at James. He sat up with a sigh, rubbing his hair vigorously.

"This is serious load of crap, Lily," said James eloquently.

"I know," she nodded, biting her lip. James frowned at her. He didn't like seeing Lily nervous.

"Are you going to keep frowning at me," she asked, "or will you kiss me again?"

James grinned.

"I suppose serious business can wait—"

"Shh," said Lily quickly. There was a noise from the stairs down the hall. Irregular footprints, it seemed, that gradually became more and more distinctive as they approached. Without warning, a fully human Sirius burst through Lily's door and growled, shutting it behind him.

He looked thinner to Lily than he had at Hogwarts, and he clearly had not combed his black hair that morning. Sirius still wore a rumpled shirt and baggy pants, very much slept in. He was not very amused as he strode over to Lily's bed and shoved James out of it with a heave, laying down instead with his face in the pillow.

Several curses later, James got to his feet and shoved Sirius back, although his friend didn't budge. With a sneer at the back of Sirius' head, James sat in Lily's desk chair and patted his lap. Lily took her seat there a moment later.

"Hello, Sirius," said Lily, greatly entertained. Sirius only groaned in response. Lily waited patiently for the complaints to begin.

"I'm so…tired," he announced, his voice distorted by the pillow. "I haven't slept past four hours, I'm tired of _laying_ on the damn floor, and I just got my first bite to eat from your mum—who's gone after your cow of a sister—and your dad. He went back to work about five minutes ago. Then your mum let me go."

"How terrible your life is, Sirius," agreed Lily without much sympathy. Sirius picked up his head irritably and fixed Lily with a decidedly bleary eye.

"She's a very nice lady, by the way," he said after awhile. "And your pillow smells sexy. Is that perfume?"

Lily felt James tense and prepare to leap from the chair. She stuck her fingers in his hair and pushed him back down awkwardly. James got the message, and settled for a strict glare.

"Sodding bastard," he said. Sirius smiled an indolent grin and inhaled deeply.

"The most fun I've had all morning. Besides that fight of yours, Lily," qualified Sirius. "My heart wept at the reminder of what you and Prongs could have had if you hadn't enjoyed licking each other's faces more than having shouting bouts—"

"Haven't you done enough?" demanded James.

"You brought me here," said Sirius immediately. "You needed my bloody guidance so much that you—"

"Fine, fine," said James hastily, almost embarrassed. Lily looked wonderingly at him.

"What's this?"

"Your bloke here," said Sirius, "was afraid that your parents would find out just how thick he really is. I came along not only to visit you, Lily baby, but also to pull Prongs' foot from his mouth if the situation needs it."

"And you're doing a great job, Padfoot," shot back James. "Particularly, a great job on the chicken and biscuits. You haven't been useful yet"

Sirius shrugged.

"At least I got up here in time to cut off your shagging—"

This time, Lily finally blushed at one of Sirius' suggestive comments. James rolled his eyes at his most infuriating best mate.

"If you call getting messages from the Order a shag, idiot."

"The Order?" Sirius sat up sharply. "What about it?"

"Lily got her message," answered James. "Ours are waiting for us at the flat, if everything's all right."

"Then what are we waiting for?" asked Sirius. "We ought to—"

"Lily!" called a voice. This time, Mrs. Evans was definitely climbing the stairs. Lily and James jumped away from each other and James Transfigured Lily's sweets dish into a plastic dog toy. A great, leaping black hound came to meet Mrs. Evans as she opened the door.

"You kids are playing with Snuffles?" she asked sweetly, scratching Sirius again. "Isn't he just delightful? James, I don't know whose dog this is, but you tell them they're just as lucky as anything."

"They'll be happy to hear, Mrs. Evans," grinned James.

Mrs. Evans wiped her hands business-like on her slacks.

"Well, then. There's more lunch if you want but I must get back to the garden. It was nice to see you, James. Come round whenever you'd like."

"Thanks."

Mrs. Evans patted his hand and winked. Then she turned and walked from the room.

"And don't worry about a thing with your sister, Lily," said Mrs. Evans as she made her way down the stairs. "She and Vernon have gone off someplace so there's no worry. Dad's off to work too…"

"I know," mumbled Lily, forgetting that Snuffles shouldn't have been able to give her information like that. Sirius reappeared after Lily shut the door again. He scratched his own head energetically.

"Being a dog sometimes makes me itch," he explained. Lily ignored him.

"We'll go back to the flat then," decided James resolutely. "I'll owl you tonight, Lily, and tell you what we've got. Merlin knows it had better be the same as yours because if Dumbledore's scheduling multiple meetings, I intend that we all go together—."

"All right," said Lily in a small voice. James was understandably thinking straight about their obligations to the Order of the Phoenix. Lily wished she could pay as much attention; all she could think about was that he was leaving. Time couldn't have flown by faster.

Sirius—displaying a certain shrewdness that underlined his grouchy shell—stretched and shook out his head, a canine tinge to every move.

"I'm going now," he grumbled. "I'll probably manage another nap before you get home."

"We won't miss you," smiled James, silently reminding himself to be nice to Sirius for leaving him more time with Lily.

"Whatever."

"Bye Sirius," grinned Lily. "Nice seeing you."

Sirius blew a kiss and Disapparated before the chew toy James threw hit the wall where Sirius' head had been. James frowned and Transfigured it back into a sweets dish. He plucked a hot pink sweet from the bowl.

"Bin it," said Lily automatically. "That's one of the sweets your owl got into."

James tossed the pecked-at sugarball into the container under Lily's desk. Then he winced. He hadn't given Mrs. Evans the chocolates from Honeydukes. That wasn't the most important thing on his mind, though.

James turned towards Lily with a dark look.

"Now, where were—"

"James, Sirius is expecting you," said Lily exasperatedly, disregarding the flush of her skin at his obvious suggestion. "How about you and I talk about something important and then you go home to check for a feather?"

"Fine," muttered James, put out. "Damn Order."

Lily walked past him and exited the room, smoothly averting his outstretched hands.

"Don't say that, James," she admonished, trotting down the stairs and through the front hall. James followed her grumpily.

They ended up in the living room, through the doors that Petunia had slammed shut earlier. It was clear and clean, like the other rooms in the house, and the wall above the fireplace was covered with pictures and photos of the Evans family. One or two closest to the mantelpiece (and easily hidden if someone were to move the old clock in front of them) were wizarding pictures in motion. The rest were of the various Muggle kind.

James was fascinated. There was Mrs. Evans, looking tired but happy, holding onto a baby with a smattering of blonde hair. She appeared again, a little older but still young, holding a second baby with reddish curls and balancing a toddler on her knee. There was Lily with an older woman that might be her grandmother, there was Mr. Evans asleep under a tree outside, and there was a family photo at a Christmas party.

It was such a queer thing, that Muggle photos took for only a moment. James had thought that stupid not too long ago, because the pictures didn't move so how should anyone know anything about what was really happening in the picture? Now, though, looking at family scenes, he saw that what Muggle pictures did was really capture a single instant in time. It was sad in a way, like the photograph could grasp only that second no matter how it tried. Then again, some moments were everything. James wasn't quite sure which type of photography he liked better.

Lily was tapping her fingers impatiently. He knew she was indulging him a few minutes to gawk at the Muggle stuff. She also probably didn't want him to find incriminating baby pictures, but James smiled, knowing he'd do it anyway eventually.

"What are you smiling about?" She sounded testy, daring him to joke about what must be an embarrassing display of pictures for her.

"That one," said James, pointing. "It's my favorite."

Lily looked over. It was a picture of her when she was about six or seven. She was wearing her mother's red lipstick and peacock blue eyeshadow. A big, old hat with a moth-eaten feather flopped on her loose hair and Lily recognized the trappings of her old dress-up trunk. Ropes of fake pearls wound around her neck and her skinny knees peeked out from where she sat in an old, oversize fuscia dress. She was all gangly arms and legs.

Her face was very close to the camera and she was smiling, a big, wide grin that scrunched up her eyes and wrinkled her nose. Younger Lily looked perfectly happy. Older Lily softened her stern expression. She had feared James would take the mickey out of her for all these old pictures of her family. Lily secretly thought that this was one of her favorite places in the house. She wanted a wall like this when she had a family of her own, and she was proud and defensive of the people it displayed.

"Well, I was cute," was all she said aloud.

James grinned.

"Still are."

"I appreciate it."

Suddenly, they were _both_ grinning like idiots and Lily didn't know why. Things like this happened with James that hadn't happened with other boyfriends. But that was okay, too.

"So…after meeting her," said Lily, sucking in a deep breath, "will you still come with me to my sister's wedding?"

James glanced over at a photo of teenage Petunia holding freshly-baked pie and one of Petunia as a small child, tying a ribbon on a stuffed lamb.

"Sure. If only to save her from you," he added. "I think I'll be taking the wands at the door."

"She's not the girl from those pictures, James," said Lily, amused. "She's highly dangerous, at least as much as the giant squid."

"The giant squid is a saint," answered James. "Barely ever tried to eat us."

"Whatever the case," continued Lily with a smile, "the wedding is the Saturday after my birthday. The Order meeting—supposing everything's right with your message—is that Sunday. I'll have to talk to my parents about it, but you could probably spend the night here. We'd go together to London the next day. Would you want to?"

The offer was offhandedly given—and James knew what Lily was and wasn't suggesting—but it still seemed like something bigger. James thought Lily had been wise not to propose this in her bedroom.

"That sounds fine," he shrugged, casually pushing his hair back. "I'll just tell Sirius to meet us in London. I dunno how Remus and Peter are getting there."

Lily brightened.

"Brilliant," she said. "Don't worry about a Muggle tux—we can Transfigure your clothes. The ceremony starts at two. Come by about one, or you'll be besieged by Vernon's mad relatives at the door."

"Vernon seems like…" James struggled dramatically for the word. Lily snorted.

"A tosser. Yes, he is. And proud."

"He didn't seem too upset about the magic thing," said James.

Lily's expression darkened.

"Well, Petunia told him, didn't she? Had to tell him before they were married. He's known since a month after they engaged, and has hardly spoken to me since. He doesn't approve, but my parents wouldn't like it if he showed off his temper about it. So Petunia's left alone to rant and rave by her lonesome."

"Oh." James considered this. Vernon was a self-seeker at best, but James hadn't had a chance to talk to the man. It was _possible _that he wasn't as terrible as Lily made him out to be. James figured he'd at least give him the chance.

This was clearly not the answer Lily had wanted. James got the idea she wanted him to commiserate.

"He has a terrible temper," said Lily. "It came up when we drive or when we watch the news. He's insipid and dull the rest of the time."

"Lily," smiled James, "I won't be lured into it. You can talk about your sister's fiancé another time. All I cared about was that you wouldn't be leaving me for him."

Normally mature, Lily found herself being childishly in the wrong and James being in the right. She tried not to scowl.

"That, at least, won't happen anytime soon."

"I know," grinned James again. "I wouldn't have let him walk out the door if I had thought so."

Mrs. Evans' shoes clicked on the hardwood floors in the hall. Lily kissed James quickly on the cheek.

"Wait a moment, I'll go ask my mum about your staying over. She already wants you to come to the wedding. Remember to owl me about the Order meeting."

She ran off into the hall.

James spared one, last look for the grinning six-year-old Lily. He hadn't examined the other photographs closely, but that one _was_ his favorite. Then his eyes lighted on a picture near the center of the mantelpiece. It was Mr. and Mrs. Evans on their wedding day. All these weddings…all this apprehension…

James discovered that he didn't really want to talk anymore. He should probably have run into the hall after Lily and given Mrs. Evans the chocolates, but he didn't want to do that either. James decided to just go home, maybe pretend that he had misunderstood Lily. She wouldn't be too mad. He Disapparated, spiraling through time and space until he crashed onto his bed in his flat.

**Here it is: installment two. Sorry for the delay, but summer's so distracting. I know I had things to say about this chapter, though of course I've forgotten them now. Questions? Comments? Owl me. **

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

On the day of Petunia's wedding, James found himself in the Evanses' old plum-colored saloon car, racing down a country road at top speed with Mr. Evans behind the wheel, smoking a pipe out of the side of his mouth. Feeling just a little uncomfortable in his Muggle suit, James tried not to close his eyes and squeeze the door handle as the automobile barreled towards the church.

He had arrived as planned and Lily met him in her room, whipping out her wand and quickly Transfiguring his cotton into silk. James had caught only a glimpse of the chaos in the house as women in varying levels of dress rushed past Lily's door clutching pastel turquoise shawls or spare hairbrushes or a missing earring. Mrs. Evans had apprehended him and ushered him into the car with Mr. Evans. The men, she had said sternly, were to be at the church before the ladies arrived.

James had to admit that sitting next to Lily's father inside a church was weird. His collar itched while he sat on the hard wood and difficult thoughts swamped his brain. Mr. Evans didn't speak much, but when he did, he spoke in bursts. Usually, when people came up to him to congratulate him.

"That's Dirk and Dotty," muttered Mr. Evans after an old couple waved in his direction. "From Ilfracombe. Helped me get my first job. They've known Petunia since she was a little girl."

"Stubbs is over there with the wife and kids. He was Petunia's favorite professor at her academy. They used to bring over new flowers from their greenhouse."

A man resembling a gargoyle smiled with a mouth of shiny white teeth.

"There's Prentice. He found us the house Petunia and Vernon are moving to. Damn nice guy."

"Your relatives don't seem to be here yet," commented James. Mr. Evans turned in his pew and twitched his lip. James suspected he'd be more comfortable if his pipe was there.

"Don't you know? We haven't got any relatives. Donna's an only daughter, and both of our parents are dead. My brothers and sisters passed too, and my sister's kids haven't talked to us in years."

"Oh."

James fell silent. He had known about Lily's grandparents, but he had never known that she had no other relatives besides her sister and parents. As a child without brothers or sisters, James had sometimes craved a sibling. An automatic playmate and friend. But James had been blessed with the extensive family befitting a Pureblood, and he couldn't decide which he would have preferred if given the choice. The minimal size of the Evans family must have soured Petunia's distaste for Lily further; it wasn't easy to replace the sisterly bond.

It was odd that Mr. Evans was sitting here with him instead of doing father-type things with the guests. He was silent, sitting in a Muggle suit that was just as nice as James'. Mr. Evans faced only ahead, breaking into life occasionally to shake hands and smile, or to tell James something. James settled more thoroughly into his seat. The church was small, and Vernon's large family (members) made quick work of filling the pews.

Out of the blue, Mr. Evans turned to James.

"Petunia is my daughter, whatever else. I didn't figure you'd come to the wedding, James, but at least Lily can be happier now. Vernon makes Petunia happy, too. It's not anything we understand."

James swallowed at this cryptic message, understanding that Mr. Evans probably had a way with words to rival his own. Which was to say, inadequate in the area of emotions. He put it from his mind when Mrs. Evans hurried over and jabbed them both on the shoulders.

"She's here!" Mrs. Evans exclaimed. "Sam, we have to be in the back of the church! I don't know what you were thinking sitting with James all the way up here—!"

Appearing highly pained, Mr. Evans stood up slowly and allowed Mrs. Evans to hustle him away. James realized his was alone in his row, but it did not last long as the music started up quickly.

Mrs. Evans and Mrs. Dursley (both moist-eyed) walked to the front to lead the procession. Mrs. Dursley joined her husband in the row opposite James. Mr. Dursley's rheumy eyes smiled at his son, who was wrapped into his suit like a present with too little packaging paper.

The church stood and turned as Petunia made her way haltingly down the aisle. Lily's sister glowed primly with pride, clutching a full bouquet from Mrs. Evans' garden. The number of ruffles on her gown suited her and softened her angular face, no matter the effect of the matching ruffles on the bridesmaids that followed her. A stick-like girl with severely styled brown hair followed Petunia to the altar ("That's her friend Yvonne, dear," whispered Mrs. Evans to James, snapping pictures and shedding tears. "Petunia picked her to be the maid of honor." _And passed over Lily_, thought James.). Vernon puffed up like a bullfrog at his blushing bride. The bridal party culminated in Lily's appearance with a large woman that greatly resembled Vernon.

"Marjorie Dursley, Vernon's sister," mumbled Mrs. Evans.

"She's right odd, being quiet and polite until you walk in on her muttering to herself outside the loo."

"Be _quiet_, Sam!"

James repressed an urge to snicker. Mr. Evans' low regard for the Dursleys and their ilk seemingly extended to Petunia's wedding day. Mr. Evans, like James, was also a rather impious man. It might have been his creaky knee, but Mr. Evans was slow to rise and slower to kneel during the readings. Mrs. Evans was prodding him from the other side. Common politeness and ingrained manners prevented James from acting as such, or on any of the arguments he usually tried on his mother when she entreated him to go to services. James was restless and when the bride and groom finally exchanged the sealing kiss, he clapped as loudly as anybody. His reasons were not so pure. He wanted the thing to be finished so he could talk to Lily again; and she was gorgeous even in that gaudy dress.

When he finally caught up with her at the reception—held at an affordable yet showy type of hall—Lily pushed her way from out of a knot of well-wishers. She smiled at him and took his hand, holding the fresh-scented bouquet in her other hand. Lily led him into the tiny garden area behind the quaint building. A gurgling, moss-clogged fountain barred direct view of their bench from the wedding party.

"The ceremony was nice—" James began, but Lily tossed her bouquet onto the bench and pressed her lips against his. She folded into his arms and they sank into sitting positions on the bench.

"No, it wasn't," murmured Lily. "And I'm sure you hated it. But thank you for coming anyway."

"Well, I knew there would be pay-off in the garden," reasoned James. Instead of hitting him or ignoring it, Lily smiled slowly. It was an expression copied directly from James' face, even if neither of them knew it exactly.

"I wouldn't miss an event like this anyway," he continued. "A chance for me to get in good with the Evans family."

Lily groaned.

"You're already in good with the Evans family. My mum likes feeding you and my dad likes…well, I'm not quite sure what he likes about you. You're lucky he does, though."

"I know," answered James, relieved.

Lily's whimsical smile slid into a frown.

"There aren't very many members of the Evans family after that…Petunia, for one, and she doesn't matter. Me, for another…and that's it…I realize I never told you—"

She didn't like talking about her recently decimated family. James couldn't blame her.

"All that's left for me to do is to get you to like me," James said. Lily's smile returned. "And," continued James lightly, "I'm at a loss. Seven years hasn't taught me anything much."

"Oh, it's not so hard," flirted Lily, pressing her fingers along a barely visible scar line that she knew ran from his elbow to her searching fingers on his palm. His hand closed around hers. "I only ask that you distract me from this miserable reception."

"I'm beginning to think you only want me around to show off at the party."

"No, I'm keeping you to myself out here."

"Lily," said James, gently disentangling her from himself, "as much as I enjoy taking advantage of these moments, this garden is about as large at the girls' loo in Hogwarts, and your very formidable father is only a sliding door away."

Lily was about to object, but she sighed instead. The garden (weedy now, with only unwanted plants overgrowing the path) had seemed much more romantic and much more spacious when she had last been here two years ago for Petunia's graduation party.

"You're right, as usual," admitted Lily. She harrumphed. "Dad will be extra bored too because he's expected to talk to Mr. Dursley, and that makes him restless and…er, stroppy."

"I'd imagine," said James mildly. He squinted at her. "That dress…"

"Don't talk to me about it."

"There's enough fabric there for all of Hogwarts to get top-of-the-range turquoise robes."

"I know," Lily said dismally. She and James left the muggy garden in which the surfaces of the plants shimmered incandescently with damp.

"James, why don't—"

"I only slow dance," he interrupted.

Lily resignedly smiled, letting go of her intended question.

"I'll hold you to it."

They went to the beverage table and James handed Lily a champagne flute. Mr. Evans joined them a few sips later, reaching straight for the gin bottle.

"Daddy!" exclaimed Lily. Mr. Evans gave her a look and refilled his small glass.

"Just in case, Lily."

As an extra measure, he upended the bottle over James' flute too.

"You'll need it, son."

He winked grimly and took a swig of his glass. Then he returned to his wife's side, where she was animatedly chatting with Vernon's mother.

Lily was open-mouthed and thunderstruck. James started laughing.

"He didn't leave me any," she explained, none-so-pleased.

They danced for the slower dances and James proved to be an excellent partner. Lily called him on it. "Pureblood thing," he muttered, not being very careful to leave room between them for watchful parents. "My mum and dad were adamant…I can do like five waltzes too…"

"Always bragging, then, aren't you?"

"Mostly."

They survived the wedding. James even helped Mr. and Mrs. Evans and Lily load the family car with all of the gifts. Lily seemed happy. Petunia was finally gone.

"Oh, thank you, James."

"No problem, Mrs. Evans."

By then, James was tired and his mind was blurry with sleep and repeated doses of Mr. Evans' pick-up drink mixture. He remembered the ride home, Lily asleep in the crook of his shoulder. An armful of packages. A moment's fumbling with the keys at the door. A guest bedroom, already fixed with new linens. A quiet kiss goodnight.

James' face hit the pillow and he slept with soothing dreams straight through the night.

When he finally did awaken, it was when the morning light flashed straight on his face and the room moved unsteadily around him. He cracked open a second eye and felt around for his glasses. The Transfiguration spell for his Muggle suit had faded, and now he was left in another rumpled Muggle T-shirt and more denim jeans. If was going to be visiting Lily so often, she'd need to get him some more Muggle stuff.

James got up and stumbled towards the bathroom. Things had cleared up after he washed his face and brushed his teeth, and a minor string of a headache had replaced the utter grogginess of first awakening.

The house seemed to be deserted, a wasteland in the wake of a great tornado of pearls and ribbons. He didn't call out; he merely wandered, bare-footed and padding down the steps and into the hall. He found no one at all.

Laughter from outside. Lily. James pushed open the front door and found his girlfriend and her mother digging around on their hands and knees under a large oak tree.

The picture that he could have taken at that moment…! They had turned in unison, and vestiges of the exact same smile flitted over both of their faces. Mrs. Evans had her hair under a kerchief and Lily's red curls were spiraling out of her hair tie in profusion. They were lovely and secretive and perfect and James wanted more than anything to know what Lily had been talking about and he hoped more than anything else that it had been him.

"Hello, James," smiled Mrs. Evans. "Nice of you to wake."

James realized the time. Early afternoon at least. He quirked his lips.

"Oops. How late is it?"

"Late enough for lunchtime to be breakfast time for the two of you," said Mrs. Evans, rising to her feet and peeling off her soil-soaked garden gloves. "My daughter has been awake for barely two hours. I guess it's time I feed the both of you."

"You don't have to—" began James.

"Absurd. You'll both be well-fed before that odd meeting you have tonight."

The Order of the Phoenix! James had basically forgotten. He looked at Lily kneeling under the shade of the tree, and her bemused expression led to a shrug.

"Right, then," said Mrs. Evans briskly. "Lunch is waffles and your father is not coming home for lunch today."

James and Lily were left alone. The sunshine seemed dull, but it glinted yellow on Lily's hair.

"'Lo," said James, dropping down beside Lily. Her cutoffs, her bright Muggle clothing, and the scent of fresh earth were registered dreamily by his still-tired brain.

"Pleasant dreams?" she asked cheekily, kissing him with only the softest touch of her lips.

"None," he admitted. "I slept like the dead."

"Or the Inferi…"murmured Lily, jabbing at an errant weed with her spade.

"What?"

"The Inferi…the _Prophet_ came today. Two of them were found in Cornwall village after an underage magic report. A twelve-year-old had used her father's wand to protect her and her younger sister…she set a fire—"

Lily choked. James swiftly snaked his arms around her and pulled her close. She struggled slightly.

"I don't need to—"

"Yes, you do."

"I swear I'm not crying—"

"Then humor me and stay there," he retorted, kissing the top her hair. Her sun-warmed body shook once and then quieted. She pulled back and this time, James didn't stop her.

"It was just that the story made me think of Petunia…I don't know why. She has no place in that world, but I can't help but out her in there sometimes. She'd kill me if I even brought up a single magical thing."

"I thought—since she's a Muggle and all—she'd be pleased by magical things," said James slowly.

Lily shook her head dubiously.

"Er, no. It's not always like that with Muggles, and especially not like that with her."

James didn't quite understand this but the smell of waffles suddenly overtook the garden. They smelled the food at the same time and rose to go in.

"Then," said James, "it's a good thing I reconsidered her wedding gift."

Lily stopped, as horrified as if James had revealed his true identity as an acromantula. She clutched his shirt.

"You didn't…"

"I did."

"What on earth did you get for Petunia and Vernon?"

"Naughty underpants," smiled James wickedly. Lily's pink lips made a perfect "O".

"Tell me the truth!" she demanded.

James sighed wistfully.

"All right, so it _wasn't _naughty underpants. It was boring, actually, so I figured your sister would like it. It was a Muggle thing."

"Muggle thing?" echoed Lily, not comforted in the slightest. "James, a gun is a Muggle thing! Itching powder is a Muggle thing! Neither of those—nor naughty underpants—is a thing that Petunia appreciates."

"Itching powder?" asked James interestedly, but Lily cut him off. Literally. She blocked the front door to the house and folded her arms.

"James, what the hell did you get her?"

"A lamp. That's all. A vintage sort of lamp. My mum likes some Muggle art work, so she bought an old lamp. Antique, I think. It reminds me of a grandmother, and Sirius didn't want it in the flat."

"A lamp?" Lily exhaled with relief. "Oh…thank goodness. I had thought—"

"Well, the pull chain was reputedly made by a hag," mentioned James casually, "so there might be some small spells of acne—"

"Is that all?" Lily bit her lip. "It could be worse. They deserve it, I guess."

"You're not mad?"

"I'm fretful. She can't blame me for acne, though."

"I'm not sure if it will happen. I wouldn't have given it to her for a wedding gift if I had known it would."

"Is it blasphemous to defame a wedding whereas every other time and place is open to your idiot pranks?" asked Lily drolly.

James only smiled.

"Sometime like that. The Marauders have laid an embargo on weddings, funerals…unless it's the best sort of wedding."

"Oh?"

"The sort where you can get away with anything."

Lily was about to say, "_Your wedding will be like that_." But she didn't. She didn't know the right words. She was still thinking about it while they ate lunch.

"_Your wedding"?_

_"Our wedding"?_

_"I hope my wedding will be like that and if you so happen to be involved it will be"?_

_"I know your wedding will be like that and I hope I so happen to be involved"?_

Nothing more happened until they finished tea. Then Lily went to make a quick change and James returned to studying Lily's family pictures. When they left the house, a light dash of rain began to fall. Lily and James climbed onto the Muggle train to London and whooshed along the rails, clutching both their phoenix feathers and wands.

**Okay. Sorry sorry sorry, first of all. I realize this story is taking a long time to update, but I'm having some trouble getting out of sticky bogs of writer's block. I don't think there will be a "hiatus" though. **

**Chapter Explanations: So, I had to come up with Evans parents names. Sorry, I didn't mean to, but I'm not using them often so if you hate them you can ignore them. Secondly, I intended originally for this chapter to contain both Petunia's party _and_ the Order meeting, but as this story reached the ten-page mark I realized that I can't push so many non sequiturs into one chapter. So the meeting is next chapter, and I'm writing off this one as character development. Smile, smile.**

**THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO READS AND REVIEWS**


End file.
